


Locks of Bone

by demiksmith



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: AOU spoilers, Angst, Gen, Grief, Guilt, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 19:09:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3948325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demiksmith/pseuds/demiksmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Let her lock him under her ribs, cage him with her very bones, let her shield him from pain and rot and ruin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sister

He dies, and it rips her apart. Her breath rattles in her throat, and she can _feel_ him, as though his hand was still in hers. He is dying, and she is so very far away. He is alone, and now, so is she. For the first time, she is _alone_.

Her scream doesn’t reach her ears, her tears fall without notice, for what is left without _him?_

Metal rends and shrieks under her wayward attention, and she stumbles toward the thing _she_ set in motion. For was it not _her_ hands that placed fear into Stark’s mind like a delicately wrapped gift, a gilded trap? Her other half, her _heart_ is dead, and she is shaking and shuddering and maybe, if she’s lucky, she will shake until she falls apart, and they can be gone, dead, together.

“Wanda…” The thing’s voice is filled with emotion for her, but she doesn’t hear it, not when she hears her lonely heartbeat. She speaks, but even her own words don’t reach her ears. She has lost herself, and she wants to lose whatever is left.

It’s heart is in her hands, and what she would _give_ , to hold her own like this, to cradle him to her chest, as though pressing together until they were one could keep him safe, keep him from death itself. Let her lock him under her ribs, cage him with her very bones, let her shield him from pain and rot and ruin.

But he is far away, and he is dead.

Dead from things _she_ put in motion.

She killed her heart. The thought leaves her hanging, dangling, one last thread of sanity, of self-preservation, above a pit of madness and loss.

She feels the floating city change, shift, and then she is plummeting, and she is glad, for one, brief, vicious moment, for she won’t be alone for much longer. Then the Vision, another thing she helped form, she helped create, is holding her close, pulling her from the destruction. She screams her fury, her rage, her grief. She _wants_ to die, she _wants_ to be with _him_ , not here, safe, above the devastation of Ultron’s failure.

She is limp in the Vision’s arms, her very soul torn from her.

 

He is dead, and so is she, but they are not together, not while she haunts the halls of the living, not while she works to atone for the seeds she has sown. _Soon_ , she thinks, _soon my heart, my half, my brother._

She fears that, even if she should ever see him again, he will not forgive her. She doesn't deserve it, not when it was her own hands tearing her heart from her, but she clings, clings to it as she had clung to him, and a part of her breaks, shatters, is ground to dust with each agonizing, lonely heartbeat.


	2. The Brother

He is moving before he thinks about it, shoving that asshole archer out of the way. The man cradles a child to him, and in those last moments, had turned, intending to shield the boy with his own bulk.

He isn't fast enough to get  _himself_ out of the way, and as he smirks and spits one last phrase at the archer, he  _feels_ it, feels his body failing, himself failing. And he is falling, so  _so_ slowly.

He feels _her_ , in this moment, feels her become aware of him, of his dying. And how he _wants_ so desperately to get to her, to show her that he’s alright, he’s fine, but his body refuses to obey.

She will be alone now, a part of him realises, and he fights, because no, he can’t leave her, not now, not when she will be alone.

 

He is her shield, and she is far away, and he is _dying_.

 

In the seconds it takes for his body to fall, he feels centuries pass. Her hand in his, a warmth in the cold, always, his sweet sister, his warmth, his heart. And he is leaving her, leaving her _alone_ , and no matter how he struggles, there is nothing he can do but fall.

He is failing her in this, and though he knows, _knows_ in his soul she would forgive him, he cannot forgive himself. For how can he? He, the shield, the wall encircling her, is falling, and leaving her bereft of his protection.

He makes promises, pleas, desperate proclamations to _anything_ listening, _don’t let this be it, don’t let me leave her._ They were supposed to be together, in all things. Not separate, not him _leaving_ her.

The rubble is slowly getting closer, and her pain is growing with each moment, and he wants, wants so _much_ , to be at her side, to soothe her, to see her safe.

There is silence in these centuries, in the seconds he spends falling. He imagines he can hear _her_ , her laughter, his name on her lips. And he curses himself for leaving, for _abandoning_ her.

The ground is hard, but he can’t really feel anything, nothing but _her_ , her grief, her soul-rending sorrow.

 

He thinks, _my heart, my half, my sister_ , live, _for me._

**Author's Note:**

> Their relationship has always stuck out as remarkable. The AoU versions tugged on the appropriate heartstrings, and my obsessive need to make everything angsty.


End file.
